


Never Give a Sith An Even Break

by wildair7



Category: Star Wars Episode IV: A New Hope
Genre: F/M, Sith
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-02
Updated: 2018-02-02
Packaged: 2019-03-12 18:37:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,042
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13553232
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wildair7/pseuds/wildair7
Summary: Everyone in the Galaxy knows Han Solo has a female business partner, one he’s not seen in over a year, but no one knows who or what she truly is, much less Han, himself, neither do they know her connection to Darth Vader.





	Never Give a Sith An Even Break

**Author's Note:**

> While the new SW movie, Solo, seems to bear a similarity to this story, written within months of the original Star Wars movie, later retitled, "A New Hope," both include a female partner and love interest for Han Solo. This story centers around the time immediately following Han's return from his previous adventures, while "Solo" takes place when Han is much younger. Strange that I and George Lucas seemed to have similar, although varying ideas, as to Han Solo's private life.

Chapter One

         The woman sat silently in a back booth of the cool cantina’s darkness, staring at the untouched drink in front of her on the lighted table. With her long hair curling lazily about her pale face, it spilt onto the beige satin of her blouse. The noon hour was quickly approaching in Mos Eisley Spaceport, and still the reason for her presence had not materialized. This, the third time she had been at this same table, waiting, the first two had been completely fruitless, and she feared this would be the same. She brushed the dark hair from her face and looked once again to the sunlit entry of the underground saloon. It was still empty.

     A bag of coins jangled onto the table’s surface, and she looked up to see a black-vested Corellian, smiling at her. “What ya say, Raena?”

     “Go soak in ice water, Mord.”

     “Solo’s not gonna show. Hasn’t even been in port for over a year.”

     So occupied was she, arguing with the Corellian, Raena failed to notice the arrival of the newcomer. He was tall, obviously human, dressed in white shirt over-covered by a dark vest and dark pants that ended in knee-length leather boots. And, as his eyes squinted to adjust to the darkness after the blinding light of the double suns of Tatooine, he came slowly into the cantina’s darkness, his face twisted in a frown as he searched the long room and all its shadows. Seeing her at last, he came toward the isolated table to sit beside her.

     “Get lost, Mord,” he said, handing back the bag of cons. “She isn’t nearly ready for you.”

     But the woman said nothing, merely letting the look in her dark eyes speak for her as they met his. “Was afraid I’d missed you again,” he said, looking first about the cantina and then again at her.

     But this time she didn’t return his gaze. “Is that what happened before, Han? You just missed me by a day or so? Do you really expect me to believe that?” Her voice had remained unnaturally calm.

     His cold eyes blazed back at her, and he answered, “Believe if you want. I don’t give a damn!” His arms leaned uncomfortably on the table’s surface as he tried to feign indifference. So, when the woman’s gloved hand reached out and touched his, he looked up at her frowning again.

     “It has been a long time, Han. You can’t blame me for suspecting, can you?” The dark eyes seemed desperately pleading for his approval as he turned, putting his arm around the back of the booth behind her.

     “No, I guess I can’t.” He broke into the crazy, one-sided grin he had. “So, what’s new, besides the fact I’m a year-and-a-half late for our meeting?”

     Raena grew deadly serious. “I had to sell _The Sirius_ , Han. I’ve lost the last six spice cargos, Jabba loaned me the money for the last, but I lost it, too. I didn’t have any choice. I had to sell her to pay off Jabba.”

     Now Han was the serious one. “What went wrong? You’ve never lost a shipment before and now six in eighteen months.”

     “I don’t know, where I went wrong. I just kept getting boarded by Imperial troops. The last two runs, I had to let most of the crew go, ‘cause I couldn’t pay them.”

     “So, what do you do now, without a ship?”

     “That’s what I want to talk about, Han. I still have quite a bit left, even after paying off Jabba. I want to buy in on the Falcon, one-fourth of your ownership, and...”

     “Don’t know how Chewie would feel about that. You know The Falcon, Raena, we just don’t need a crew, as such, and Chewie hates taking orders from me, as owner, much less you, too.”

     “But I am good with the cannon, Han; you know that. I could man them with you while Chewie maneuvers the ship.”

     “I already have another gunner, a kid named Luke Skywalker.” Han grimaced in reconciliation. “And he brought along two ‘droids and—”

     “And you just don’t want me around cluttering up the place.”

     Han shook his head and now placed an arm around Raena’s shoulder. “It’s not that, baby. You know I wouldn’t mind having you around. It’s just that...well, you know.”

     “I have fifteen thousand solars left from the sale, Han. Is that enough to buy me passage to Mos Taru?”

     “Raena!”

     “Well, yes or no, Han? You do take passengers, don’t you?” “Yeah, but...”

     “Then the matter’s settled. We have company.”

     Han turned in time to see a young blond man, wearing a tan jacked, black shirt and brown pants, stuffed into black boots, enter and head for their table. “Uh, sorry, Han,” he said, coming hesitantly nearer. “I didn’t know...I mean, you’re busy, so I’ll go sit somewhere else.”

     “Sit down, Luke. Here!” As the young man did so, he stared at the woman beside the Corellian, for an inordinately long time.

     “I’m Raena,” she said.

     “Uh, hi. I’m Luke Skywalker.”

     Han took a sip from the woman’s untouched drink. “She won’t bite, kid.”

     “Sure, I knew that. She’s just so..., I mean, I’ve never seen a female pirate before. You are a pirate, aren’t you? I mean, you’re dressed like one, I guess.”

     “You’ve never seen one like her, though, kid,” Han corrected. “She’s the best in the Galaxy. Except for me, of course.”

     Luke laughed a bit, which surprised Raena. Very few people laughed at Han’s jokes. Now, the lad squirmed excitedly. “Aren’t you Corellian, like Han, Raena?”

     “Yes, Luke, I am.”

     “How long have you known Han?”

     The woman looked at the grudge-faced Solo. “A long time, Luke, a very long time.”

     “I think you’re about the first friend of his I’ve met, except for Chewie. Seems Han has more enemies than friends.”

     “She’s not my friend, kid.”

     Luke’s wide blue eyes grew wider. “Then what is she?”

     Raena also looked to Han for the answer to the kid’s question.

     “She’s my business partner.”

     Luke smiled. “Sure wish I had a business partner like her.”

     Raena smiled at Luke as Han grunted and started to rise.

     “The hell you do. Let’s get out of here.”

     But, just as they started to leave, Raena spotted an undeniable figure in the cantina entrance. “Jabba,” she whispered.

     “Oh, great. That’s all I need,” Han hissed and turned to look for the back entrance. But it, too, was blocked by three of Jabba’s henchmen. The Corellian touched the cool metal of the blaster on his hip. “All right, back to the table. We’ve got some planning to do.”

     "How much do you owe him, Han?” Raena whispered as they sat again.

     “Enough.”

     Luke leaned across the table. “Han, I didn’t bring my blaster. All I have is my light saber.”

     At the last words, Raena looked at the young man with new insight. She hadn’t noticed the metal cylinder on his belt when he first joined them and was surprised one so young would know the ways of the Force. She turned her attention to Han, who was answering Luke.

     “...so just make do, and from now on, damnit, bring your blaster.”

     “Han, what plan this time?” she asked.

     “Remember the one we used at Mos Sarus three years ago?”

     She nodded in replay.

     “Good as any, eh?”

     Raena moved the duffle bag she held to Luke’s other side and whispered as she leaned across him. “When I touch your leg, get that saber ready to swing.” She slid back over to Han, and he put an about her, drawing her even closer, then began kissing her.

     Luke stared unbelievably and half-whispered, “What am I supposed to do while you two are doing that?”

     Han pushed Raena toward the young man. “Okay, kid, you kiss her, and I’ll improvise.” Luke was more than astonished to find Raena’s arms already around his neck and her mouth uncomfortably close.

     “Kiss me, Luke!” He looked down at her. "I—I—”

     “You do know how, don’t you?” she asked.

     “Sure.”

     “Then kiss me!”

     As Luke let his lips cautiously touch Raena’s, at last, he also felt the woman suddenly wrenched from his furtive grasp.

     “Here, kid, let me show you.” Han pulled Raena into his lap this time, placing a kiss on her mouth that was less than gentle and more passionate.

     Completely confused, but not too confused, Luke stiffened slightly at the approach of four aliens toward the table. The leader was short, more like a rage-covered ball of lard, topped by a skull with an abundance of hair. But, then all Huts looked like this.

     “Do you think your husband would approve of such behavior, Raena,” the newcomer asked.

     Han cast a questioning glance at the woman.

     “My husband doesn’t give a damn what I do, Jabba. So, if you’re thinking of blackmailing me, it won’t work.”

     Jabba gave what passed as a shrug then cast his deep-set eyes on Han. “Sorry to disturb you, my boy, but we do have business to discuss, as I’m sure you’ll remember.”

     Raena released, Han looked up with feigned surprise. “Why, Jabba, I haven’t the slightest idea what you’re talking about.”

     “Come now, Han, you don’t want me to have to forcibly remind you, do you?”

     Raena slipped off Han’s lap and spoke again. “Jabba, you know Han too well for that. He’s one of your best pilots, and he’s too good for you to ‘damage.’ You also know he’ll come up with the money, sooner or later.”

     “But it’s necessary he come up with it sooner, Raena, not later. You forget I have a business to run.”

     “And, so does Han,” she retorted. “If you force him to pay you now, he won’t have any solars left to buy another cargo, and that would be bad for you, too, as his buyer.”

     “She’s right,

     Jabba,” Han interjected. “If I don’t supply you, how can you supply your market? There ain’t that many freighters getting through with any cargo, at all, these days.”

     “Yes, I’m sure Raena can vouch for you, there. I’m sorry you had to sell your ship, Raena. That was not my intent.”

     Raena smiled angrily. “Of course, not, Jabba.” She stared at the grotesque alien a minute then added, “Just how did you expect me to pay off the two-hundred-thousand, then?”

     Noticing her hand inching closer to the blaster slung on her hip, Han put a restraining arm about her shoulders. “You have to admit, that’s a pretty big debt to pay off any other way, Jabba.”

     “Han, Raena, as I have said many times, I have no desire to put my best pilots out of work. Raena’s decision to sell her ship was hers. There are many ways, she could have raised the money. Raena is very attractive, for a human. I’m sure there are many who would—”

     “Shove it, Jabba! You know she’s not likely to resort to that, and I’m getting rather bored with this conversation. In fact, I’m getting pretty tired of dealing with you at all, so why don’t you and your swine buzz out of here?”

     Raena carefully moved her hand to rest on Luke’s thigh, then with the same hand slowly withdrew her blaster from its holster, at the same time, releasing the safety. Following suit, Luke silently unhooked the light saber from his belt and readied his thumb on the activator.

     “All you have to do is pay me, Han,” said Jabba, ignoring Han’s statement of ending the conversation. “That’s all I ask.”

     Angling her body toward Han, Raena asked, “Just how much does he owe you?”

     “Fifteen-thousand,” the Hut replied, “a paltry sum.”

     Han’s face grew hard. “No, Raena!”

     “But, Han, why not? We are business partners.”

     The Corellian gave her his usual glare.

     “You’d better make up your mind, my boy,” commented Jabba, “since you won’t be able to lift off Tatooine without paying. I’ve employed several Storm Troopers to see you not leave the docking bay.”

     “Storm Troopers have never stopped me before, Jabba.”

     “There’s always a first time, Han.”

     “If she’s got the money, let her give it to Jabba,” put in Luke. “Stop being such a damn—”

     “That’s enough, kid! This is my business, not yours.” Han voiced a few grunts of Wookie-gab directed at Raena, and she shouted, “Now Luke!” The table toppled with a shove of Han’s foot as he next whirled to blast the henchmen at the rear entrance, while Raena took care of the two men with Jabba. Jabba himself was unarmed, and Luke was content with holding him at the tip of his glowing light saber as they made their way to the front entrance. Tossing the customary fee to the burly bartender, Raena followed the two men quickly, without explanation to the already apathetic audience.

     “You’re still pretty good with that thing,” Han commented as they raced toward the docking bay.

     “You’re not too bad yourself but still too hot-headed. We could have gotten out of there without all that.” Raena looked back and saw five Storm Troopers coming from the cantina. “Better think quick; we’re being followed.”

     The streets were gorged with people as the neared another group of Imperial troops, forcing the three to shove their way through. Blasters would be useless in such a crowd, but Han and Raena still kept them in hand. Now, the white-armor of the Storm troopers gleamed in the harsh sunlight, just scant meters away. Breaking to the edge of the crowd, Raena and Han opened fire on the Imperial troops and, covering Luke, who carried Raena’s duffle bag, sped up the ramp of the waiting _Millennium Falcon_.

     As Han ran into the cockpit, Chewie was already starting the engines, grunting a disgusted greeting or comment. “Let’s get out of here!” Han ordered.

     Another grunt followed this command then the _Falcon_ was floating upward and beyond Mos Eisley, out past the atmosphere of barren Tatooine and into the blackness beyond.

     “Where to, Lady?” Han yelled back. “You’re the passenger.”

     “Mos Yaru,” the woman answered.

     The huge, hairy Wookie turned and let loose a short howl.

     “Cool it, Chewie,” Han admonished. “You can talk to her later. Right now, we’ve got trouble.”

     Five TIE fighters appeared through the cockpit glass.

     “Luke,” Han hollered, “you and Raena get to the guns. We’ve got company!”

     As soon as Raena was in the huge bubble, the laser cannon controls in her hands, she saw a group of three TIE fighters coming towards her. For an instant, she froze, noticing the odd wing shape of one in the center of the group.

     “Darth!” she whispered.

     The group leader soared over the gunbay, the two accompanying fighters veering off. To her rear, Raena heard Luke’s cannon blasting at the retreating fighters, but Raena’s own guns remained silent.

     Han’s voice shattered her ear through the commlink. “Why didn’t you fire?”

     “They came in before I was ready,” she answered. “I’ll get them next time.”

     “You’d better. A mistake like that could kill you.”

     Raena still felt the control grips in her gloved hands but the bay about her was nonexistent except to touch. She heard the approach of more fighters but was only able to rely upon her instincts. The gunner’s chair swiveled to the left, and she pressed the firing trigger. The plasma bolt met its mark and she heard a small, multiple explosion.

     “That’s better,” came Han’s voice over the commlink.

     There was the sound of the guns behind her, again, and another explosion, along with Luke’s wild whoop of victory sounding down the tube behind her.

     “That’s it,” Han informed them both, “the rest are leaving. Get strapped in. We’re making the jump to light speed in two minutes.”

     Raena tore the commlink from her head and whispered down the tube to Luke. “I need some help here.”

     Climbing down the ladder to the upper gunbay, Luke held on to Raena’s chair. “What’s wrong?”

     “I’m blind, Luke. I need your help to get down the tube to the corridor.”

     “How can I help?” “Go down the ladder first, and I’ll follow. Just let me know when I’ve gone far enough. And, we’ll have to hurry; there isn’t much time.”

     The young man’s concern was clearly etched on his youthful face. “Hadn’t you better tell Han?”

     “No!” Raena said, shaking her head and now out of the fighting chair. “He’s too busy. Later.”

     Luke helped her to the ladder and went down it to the corridor where a golden robot waited, flanked by one of the stubby R2 units.

     “Master Luke, we were beginning to worry. It’s nearly time to make the jump.”

     “I know, Threepio. Go ahead and strap in. I’ll be there in a minute.”

     Now on the deck, his hand reached out to touch Raena’s waist. “Okay, step back; you’re there.”

     “Thirty seconds to the jump,” Han shouted down the corridor.

     Quickly, Luke guided Raena to the main hold and sat her beside Threepio who did a quick perusal. “I don’t believe we’ve met, miss.”

     “This is Raena, Threepio. She’s, uh, Han’s business partner.”

     “Pleased to meet you, I’m sure. I am Cee-Three-pee-Oh, Human-Cyborg Relations, and this is my counterpart,” he said, indicating the other unit, “Ar-Two-Dee-Two.”

     The R2 unit acknowledged with a short bleep.

     “Well, you could have at least said something more polite,” remarked the taller of the two.

     “It’s all right,” Raena replied, “’droids and I usually don’t have much to say to each other.”

     “I can’t imagine why. You seem to be quite intelligent for a Human.”

     “I consider that a compliment, Threepio.”

     “She’s Corellian, Threepio,” provided Luke.

     “Indeed.”

     Raena placed her hand on Luke’s arm, as there was a sudden lurch of the pirate freighter. “Actually,” she began, “I’m not really Corellian. You see, my race is an offshoot of the original Corellian race.”

     “What is yours called,” asked Luke.

     “Just simply, the Sith.”

     Before Luke had a chance to react to this bit of news, Han and Chewie came through the corridors and into the hold.

     “We’ll be at Mos Yaru in nine hours,” Han announced. “Everyone might as well get some rest until then. And you,” he said, pointing at Raena, “I want to talk to you.”

     Luke slipped out of his place beside her, and Han pulled her out. Chewbacca snorted. “I said you could talk to her later, Chewie. Right now, we’ve got something to discuss in private. After that, she’s all yours." 

 

     Pulling Raena down the corridor, the Cornellian half-pushed the woman into a room that seemed to be sleeping quarters, and behind them a door slid to with a slight bang. “All right,” Han said, facing her, “what’s this about you having a husband?”

     Raena tried to direct her eyes to the place where she thought his face would be. “It’s not important, Han. Like I said, he doesn’t care what I do.”

     “I’ve known you fifteen years, and you ain’t never mentioned you were married. But I’ll bet anything, Chewie knows.”

     “Yes,” she answered meekly, “he knows.”

     “Well, I’ll be damned! Why didn’t you tell me? That’s the least you could’ve done, ain’t it?”

     “My marriage has no effect on our relationship.”

     “The Hell it ain’t!”

     “Han, he doesn’t even want me around. He bought _The Sirius_ for me and financed my first cargo.”

     “So, why’d he marry you?”

     “It was a contractual marriage. My father wanted political and social prominence. He knew Zareth wanted to marry me, and my opinion didn’t matter. Besides, until he became involved with The Empire, our marriage was at least compatible.”

     “And what does this do to _our_ contract?”

     “Nothing, since ours was automatically dissolved a year ago, when you failed to show.”

    The Corellian was adequately humbled and put his arm around the woman’s waist, affectionately. “I said, I was sorry. Besides,” he continued, kissing her hair, “we could always draw up another one.”

     “And what good would that do?” she said, pulling away. “Baby, how can you even ask?”

     “It wouldn’t be fair to you, Han.”

     “Why?” ‘Because, once I get to Mos Yaru, I doubt I’ll ever leave.”

     “You trying to tell me you don’t need me anymore; is that it?”

     “Han, I don’t want to talk of it now. Just let me speak to Chewbacca, all right?”

     “Sure, if that’s the way you want it. But it’s not over, yet, Raena,” he said pointing at her admonishingly, “not by a long shot!” Han stormed past Chewie and into the main hold. “Okay, now you can talk to her.”

     The Wookie seemed puzzled, watching Han flop down into the chair by the navicomp, then shrugged and went down the corridor, peeking around the now open door.

     Raena stood in the center of the floor, staring straight ahead. “Come in, Chewbacca,” she softly said.

     The Wookie grunted a few times and motioned with his head in the direction of the hold.

     “I think his feelings are hurt,” she said.

     Chewie sat on the rumpled bunk then let out a series of half-snorts and a short growl. Raena turned towards him and reached out her hand, fingers spread. The huge Wookie cocked his head, as she came slowly closer then held out his hand as she finally came within reach.

     “Chewbacca, I don’t want you to say anything about this to Han. He’ll find out soon enough, without your telling him and be angry with me all over again.”

     A long string of grunts and screeches followed.

     “Yes, I heard about the attack on the Death Star....and about _The Falcon_ saving the day. But he isn’t dead, Chewbacca.”

     There followed a confused grunt.

     “He’s alive. I saw him less than a month ago.” Raena felt her way to sit beside the russet- haired alien. “If he were dead, all my problems would be solved.”

     The Wookie grunted softly and put a huge arm around her, allowing Raena to gratefully lean against his enormous chest. “And he’s the only one who can return my sight. He did it because he wants me back there. Why, I don’t know. Sometimes I think he’s afraid of me.”

     The Wookie snorted twice.

     “I know how stupid that sound, but, nevertheless, it’s the only explanation I can think of.”

     Another two snorts answered her.

     “What about Han?”

     The Wookie howled softly.

     “Well,” she said sitting up, “you introduced me to him. I hadn’t seen you for year, so didn’t know what to expect. Han Solo is hardly the type of person I would have considered myself to get involved with.” She pulled out of his arms entirely. “What are you, anyway? My friend or his?”

     The Wookie rolled his blue eyes in exasperation.

     “I’ve known you all my life, Chewbacca. You were my witness when I signed that damn marriage contract, and now you say it’s none of your business what goes on between Han and me! I suppose you’d be joyously happy if I just got out of your life and his, too.”

     This time the Wookie growled loudly, loud enough to be heard in the main hold.

 

     “Maybe I’d better go see what’s going on,” Luke mentioned, hearing the conversation between the woman and seven-foot Wookie growing louder and more angry.

     “Leave ‘em alone,” ordered Han. “A Wookie doesn’t like to be interrupted.”

     “Seems like they’re arguing about you, Mister Han,” provided Threepio.

     “What if they are? Didn’t anyone ever tell you it ain’t polite to eavesdrop?”

     “Uh, he’s right, Threepio,” Luke agreed. “Better shut down for a while to avoid trouble.”

     There was a sudden silence, and the huge Wookie passed the hold on his way into the cockpit.

     “Well,” Han speculated, “maybe now I can get some rest.” Pushing himself out of his chair, he mumbled to Luke, “If you’re not going to sleep, let me know when we’re ready for the jump back to normal speed.”

     But, when Han entered his quartered, it was to find Raena still sitting on the bed. “Why are you still here?”

     “I don’t know where else to go.”

     “Your gear’s in the next cabin.”

     She rose slowly and started towards him, suddenly hitting his chest. “I’m sorry, I wasn’t watching.

     Han grabbed her arms and scrutinized her face. “You can’t see, can you? That wasn’t a mistake earlier, was it?”

     “No, it wasn’t a mistake. I couldn’t see the Fighters.”

    “Then how did you get that one?”

     “By something you refuse to acknowledge even exists!”

     “Not that Force stuff, again. Hell, first the kid and now you. Thought you’d given all that up.”

     “You can’t give up what becomes a part of you, Han.” Once free of his hands, she pushed past him into the corridor.

 

     Within the odd-winged TIE fighter, a being wearing a gruesome black breath-mask spoke to an unidentifiable source. “The homing device is functioning. I am returning to the cruiser. Prepare for hyperdrive.”

     Moments later, the dark figure, all armored in black and covered with an enveloping black cape, trod down the corridors of the gigantic battleship. An officer in khaki cloth joined him, dwarfed by the Dark Lord.

     “They seem to be head for Corellis, Lord Vader. Somehow, though, it all seems too easy, too much of a coincidence.”

     “The woman has nowhere else to go,” the tall one answered wisely. “She will go to Mos Yaru. It is her only choice, but we shall arrive even before she does.”

     “Yes, Lord Vader. I understand.”

     The Dark Lord lifted his helmeted head when the man had gone and said, “We shall meet once again, at last, Raena, and when we do, there shall be no question as to whom is the more powerful.” His gloved hand touched the cylindrical hilt of the light saber where it hung from his belt. “And I think we shall be evenly matched this time.”

 

Chapter Two

     Sleep seemed impossible for Raena. She kept thinking about Han and then Darth Vader. Why couldn’t Han understand her? Why did they always argue when they were together? And, as for Darth—Han would never understand that! Again, she closed her eyes against the already impenetrable darkness, trying to invite sleep. The ship was quiet, except for the hyperdrive engines, and yet she wished for the sound of booted footfalls. And then there was a knock at her door. She sat up, slightly.

     “Who is it?”

     “Han. Can we talk?”

     “Come in.”

     He locked the door behind him and then turned on the dim table pano. “Thought it was time we straightened something out.”

     “What’s that?”

     “I was there, a year ago, at Mos Eisley, waiting for you. I didn’t miss you. Luke and this old man came, wanting to charter _The Falcon_ to Alderan for fifteen thou. So, I had to go, and there wasn’t time to leave a message for you.”

     “And that was, what, about six months ago?”

     “Yes.”

     "And what about the Death Star’s destruction?”

     Han laughed, nervously. “Got a medal for that, but I had to lay low for a year before I dared to come back.” He sat beside her on the bed. “It’s not that I didn’t want to see you. I did. Worried about you the whole time, too, as if you needed anyone to worry about you.”

     “Oh, Han.”

     “Raena, I wasn’t even thinking about the damn contract. If I’d known you were in such trouble with Jabba, I would’ve come back anyway and to Hell with the Empire and the whole Rebellion.”

     “Sounds to me like you didn’t have any profits to split anyway.”

     “Well, I did, but after a year, the interest on my debt to Jabba really skyrocketed. The fifteen thou’s all interest.”

     “And now I don’t have any profits to split, either.”

     Han looked at her delicate hands, ones much too fine for a pirate of her reputation. ‘What will you do now?”

     “Try to have my sight restored. After that, I don’t know.”

     “Go back to your husband?”

     “Maybe...for a while.”

     “If you want...I mean after your sight’s back and if you decide to go back into the business, let me know, okay?”

     “I will,” she said, nodding weakly.

     “Well, then, now that all that’s said, I’d better be going.”

     She heard him rise to leave and then the opening of the door. “Han,” she cried out, “are you gone?” Next, she heard the scuffling of his boots on the floor as he turned towards her.

     “No, not yet.”

     “Han, will you kiss me? It might be the last time I ever— ”

     The sound of two, approaching footsteps later, she felt herself swept abruptly into his arms and his lips on hers, as he crushed her against him. It was a long kiss, longer than the ones in the cantina and yet tender and caressing. Han gently laid her back on the pillow, brushing a strand of hair off her forehead then kissed her again.

     “I’m not ever going to stop thinking of you,” he said.

     “Nor I of you.” Her hand reached out to his face, and he took it, kissing her palm.

     “When you’re over this, we’re going to draw up a new contract—one without the split profit clause.”

     “Think you could stand me that often?”

     “Willing to try. Couldn’t stand you for the first three years, anyway. You were the snobbiest broad I’d ever seen.”

    “You weren’t so charming yourself—self-centered know-it-all!”

     “Yeah, we were perfect for each other.”

     “Don’t leave, yet.”

     “Wasn’t planning to.”

 

     Five hours later, Han left Raena’s room and made his way slowly to the main hold to be greeted by Luke’s blue stare.

     “Pretty proud of yourself, aren’t you, Han,” the boy said.

     “What the Hell you mean by that, kid?” the older man answered, taking the clipboard and studying the control board.

     “I’m not a kid, anymore, for one thing. And, for another, it doesn’t take a genius to figure out what you were doing in Raena’s cabin for so long.”

     Solo dropped the clipboard and glanced at the young Skywalker. “Mind your own business, Luke. Raena and I are two adults that don’t need no butting in by outsiders. One of these days, you’ll be old enough to understand how it is between Raena and me. But now, you ain’t even been in the Galaxy long enough to know one score from another. So, until you do, just keep your opinions to yourself.”

     Almost immediately, Luke found himself alone with his anger, for Han had left the hold.

 

     Now dressed, Raena sat on the side of the narrow bed, her hand thrust into the gearbag beside her until it felt the cold metal within and slowly drew the object out into light, automatically thumbing the activator and allowing the blue laser, she knew it possessed, to extend to its full meter of length. Suddenly there was a sound behind her, and she turned, grasping the laser hilt with both hands to meet the intruder.

     “You a Jedi?” asked a bemused male voice. It was young Skywalker.

     Raena smiled in relief and at his question. “Luke, I’m sorry. Reflexes, you know. No, I’m not truly a Jedi. I didn’t have all the years of instruction. This,” she said, deactivating the beam, “was my father’s. He was a Jedi.”

     “My father was, too.”

     “I thought as much, when you mentioned your light saber in the cantina.” She replaced the metal cylinder into the gearbag and said, “The Force is with you, Luke. I can sense it.”

     Hearing a creak as the young man sat in the room’s single chair, Raena paid attention to his next words. “You know,” he said, “I felt something when I met you. Kind of a surge of power or energy.”

     “Yes, Luke, the Force is with you, otherwise you never could have felt the Force within me.”

     “Maybe we could spar some time,” he offered.

     “I’m afraid there won’t be time for that, as much as I’d like to.” She exhaled softly and added, “I could certainly use the practice.”

     “So could I,” he answered. Going against remotes just isn’t the same, somehow. That’s one place I agree with Han, even though he doesn’t believe in the Force.”

     “Han can’t believe in anything he can’t see or touch. Don’t try to change him, Luke; he’s too stubborn and too set in his ways.”

     “Could I ask you something, Raena?”

     “I suppose so,” she replied, putting her hands demurely in her lap.

     “You’re not Han’s business partner, are you?”

     Raena laughed. “No, not exactly. Actually, it depends on what you call business.”

     “I don’t understand.”

     “Business, that is the term, business, connotates non-emotional contract; and while ours certainly began as an unemotional one, except, perhaps, for a mutual emotion of hatred, I’m not so sure it’s still that way.”

     “But, if you’re not business partners, what are you?”

     Before Raena could answer, an angry voice in the corridor, just outside her open door, interrupted her attempt. “I told you,” said the voice, she recognized as Han’s, “that it’s none of your business, kid.” Now she heard his single, commanding step into the room before he announced, “We’ll be dropping back into normal space in one minute.”

     Luke left, and Raena could feel the anger pouring off him, as Han came to stand before her. “What goes on between us ain’t no concern of his, Raena. Besides, he’s too young to understand a deal like ours.”

      “Don’t’ underestimate him, Han. He understands a lot more than you give him credit for.”

     “But I don’t want you telling him.”

     “Why not? Half the Organization knows about our contract. Sooner or later someone will mention it to him. He’s not the kind to swallow betrayal, you know.”

     “I’ll deal with that before it happens, when he’s older.”

     “You were his age when you signed our contract, Han. You understood it plainly enough.”

     He quickly changed the subject. “We’ll be at Mos Yaru in an hour.” Then she heard him leave without so much as a good-bye.

     Moments later, _The Falcon_ jolted into normal space, and Raena smoothed the beige satin of her blouse and straightened the soft, suede-like cloth of her pants over her flat stomach. The blaster she usually wore placed in the holster on her belt, she thrust a vibroknife into her right boot, before leaving the cabin. Then, the gearbag swung onto her shoulder, she started down the corridor. Her progress halted by a hairy grip on her hand, she realized Chewbacca had come to guide her to a place where she would be safe until they landed.

     A place as opposite as it could be to the spaceport on Tatooine, the town was surrounded by thick jungle and decorated with careless vines. Along each constantly muddy or wet street, the stench of their gutters would linger in one’s nostrils for days after departure. Except this was the place Raena had chosen to come, although neither Solo or Luke could guess the reason.

     “We’ll be here a few days, refueling,” Han called after Raena, as she walked hesitantly down the ramp. “If you change your mind, that is.”

     There had been no farewells, either verbally or physically, despite the previous night, and it rattled him. Now, as his words dwindled to nothing, he watched her move forward, not so much as acknowledging his existence. In anger, he hit the portal of the hatch and went inside.

     “Hey, Luke,” he hollered, “come here, kid!”

     “Yeah, what is it?” Luke answered, coming from farther down the corridor, but still obviously angry with Han.

     “Send one of your ‘droids with her. She ain’t safe out there alone. Something could happen.”

     “Sure. Threepio, catch up with her.”

     “Where to, Miss Raena,” the golden ‘droid asked, once he had fallen in step beside her.

     “Thought I’d go shopping. Maybe buy a dress. Haven’t owned one in decades, and I’m feeling very feminine for a change.”

     “Pardon me, ma’am, but don’t you think you should have a physician attend your eyes, first?”

     There was a beeping on her other side. “Artoo here, too?”

     “Wouldn’t stay on the ship, no matter how I tried to discourage him.”

     “It’s all right. If Luke doesn’t mind.”

     “Oh, no. Master Luke said it was perfectly fine with him. My, there certainly are a great number of Imperial troops, hereabouts; but at least there seems to be none of those detestable Jawas.”

     Raena laughed. “No, no Jawas here; too damp for them. But there are quite a few Wookies.”

     She could hear the click and whine as Threepio jerked his metal head about.

     “My goodness, there certainly are.” Now she heard his head swivel to the right. “Here’s a shop you might care to examine, Miss. There are several quite beautiful dresses on display.”

     As the three entered the small shop, a white-armored Storm Trooper stopped meters away. “Sector Thirty-Four. THX-Two five four. She’s here, sir. Just went into a dress shop off docking bay one-twenty.”

     Raena and the two ‘droid departed the shop minutes later, then she suddenly stopped in the middle of the street. “Threepio, you and Artoo go back to _The Falcon_.”

     “But, miss, we’re supposed to stay with you.”

     “Threepio, that’s an order! I don’t want you and Artoo to stay.” Another click of gears told Raena that the ‘droid had cocked his head, almost human-like, and an additional noise seemed to indicate him looking to the R2 unit for advice.

     Finally, she heard Threepio say, “We’d better go, then. Come along, Artoo.”

     On their return to the docking bay, the two droids were passed by a detachment of Storm Troopers, headed in the direction of the dress shop. Quite suddenly, Artoo swiveled about and headed back for the shop, Threepio hobbling behind.

     “She said to return to the ship,” the golden droid admonished his companion. “What are you doing?” There followed a series of beeps. “What do you mean, she’s in trouble? She wouldn’t have sent us away if she were in trouble.”

     The R2 unit stopped behind a building, and Threepio peered around the corner. The Storm Troopers had stopped in front of and to the rear of the lone Raena, seeming to await something or someone. Before long, four more white-armored troopers escorted an abnormally tall, black-cloaked figure to the store front where the others stood surrounding the woman.

     “So, Raena,” Threepio heard the man say, “you are my prisoner, at last.”

     “You knew I’d come here, Darth. You caused my blindness; only you can remove it.”

     “How true, my lady.”

     The ‘droid watched as the Dark Lord raised his outspread right hand, fingers half-outstretched. Then Raena blinked.

     “If you expect me to thank you, you’ll have to wait a very long time.”

     The Dark Lord motioned gallantly with his hand. “Shall we go?”

     As Threepio observed the woman being engulfed by the soldier and taken away, he said, “Oh, dear, we must tell Master Luke. Come, Artoo; we must hurry.”

     Not many minutes later, the two droids trundled down the ramp of the docking bay to the young Skywalker, as he examined the freighter’s exterior. “Master Luke, Master Luke!” the droid excitedly shouted, waving his golden arms. “She’s been kidnapped!”

     Luke turned to the tall droid. “Who’s been kidnapped? Why aren’t you with Raena? You mean Raena?”

     “Yes, Master Luke, but it wasn’t our fault. She sent us away, ordered us—”

     Ignoring the rest, Luke shouted, “Han! Han, Raena’s been—”

     The Corellian rounded the bow of the freighter, Chewbacca on his heels at a dead run. “What’s happened to her?”

     “Threepio says she’s been kidnapped.”

     “But why,” Han questioned, “and by who?”

     “The Imperial troops,” provided Threepio. “There was a singularly tall person,” he continued with wild gesticulations, “all in black. Seems to be the same as the one on that space station.”

     “Darth Vader?” Luke asked.

     “Yes, it could be. She did call him, Darth, if I remember correctly.”

     “Why would he take her prisoner?” asked Luke now.

     Chewbacca shifted uneasily behind Solo.

     “He seemed quite courteous to her,” Threepio continued, “even cured her blindness, I believe.”

     “That explains it!” Luke exclaimed. “He must have caused her blindness during that first TIE Passover.”

     “She was probably never really blind,” Han postulated, “psychological or whatever they call it.”

     “Well, anyway,” Luke continued, “we have to help her escape.” “She doesn’t need any help, kid. No woman, especially one like her, needs help to get away from her husband.”

     “Darth Vader is Raena’s husband?”

     “You figure it, kid. She’s a Sith; so’s he. And, from what this ‘droid of yours says, they obviously know each other.”

     “But Darth Vader?” Luke voiced.

     “If you don’t believe me, ask Chewie. He’s known her all her life.” Han turned and stormed back to the rear of the ship.

     Luke looked at the giant, hairy Wookie, who shrugged in response. “You mean you don’t know if he’s her husband or not?”

     His question followed by a string of grunts in reply, he looked to Threepio for an interpretation.

     “He said he knows she married a Sith but not his name. However, he doesn’t think it was Darth Vader.”

 

     Once in the Empire’s military complex, Vader dismissed the accompanying guard. “I believe you will give me no need to call them again, will you, Raena?”

     “Don’t bet on it, my lord.”

     Vader personally removed the binders from her wrists, all the while perusing her person. “You make a lovely pirate, my dear. Too bad your career in that profession is ended.”

     “Thanks to you and Jabba, you mean. Tell me, Darth, it was through your influence I was boarded all those times, wasn’t it?”

     “No one expected you to become so adept at smuggling, my lady, so it was necessary for the economy of the Empire for you to be stopped, because now it is time you renew your position among the Sith.”

     A door opened beside them. Another gallant sweep of his black glove-covered hand, indicated Raena’s new quarters. “I hope you find these comfortable.”

 

Chapter Three

     Without looking up from the clipboard, Han answered Luke’s current question. “It’s none of your business or mine. What we have to worry about is getting to Kettel to pick up that next cargo of spice. Raena doesn’t want our help. If she had, she wouldn’t’ve told the ‘droids to come back.”

     “But, if she knew she was going to be taken prisoner, she must have known the ‘droids would tell us.”

     “She sent ‘em away ‘cause she didn’t want us to know. She’s where she belongs—with her husband.”

     “Are you so jealous of her husband that you’re blind to the facts, Han?”

     The Corellian turned on him. “Butt out, kid! She’s nothing but trouble, and if you think I’m jealous of some Imperial fanatic with metal for a face, you’re crazy.”

     “Well, you wouldn’t be acting this way, if she really was your business partner—just a business partner. I may be young, but I’m not dumb, Han. No one has to tell me what kind of relationship you and Raena have. It’s written all over your face.”

     “You’re off base, kid, way off.”

     “Then, why were you so angry when you found out she was married? You wouldn’t have reacted that way unless there was some pretty deep, emotional involvement between you two.”

     “Don’t you see it, Luke. She led me on, kid. Good as lied to me. And I don’t like being lied to.”

     “Then go ahead and seep in your self-pity, because I’m going to find her and get her to come back.”

     When Luke left the cockpit, Han threw the clipboard after him, then dropped into the navigator’s chair, barely touching the seat before he was up again. “Luke, wait!” he shouted. By the time he reached the ramp, Luke and Chewbacca stood in binders, flanked by two score of Imperial troopers, their blasters all aimed at Han’s gut. And then, as if that wasn’t enough, Han felt a blaster barrel thrust into his back. Escape was impossible.

    

     The detention cell was dark, and in the expected cold dampness, Raena felt she could imagine all sorts of things unseen. Then there came the sound of multiple footsteps sounding down the corridor and stopping in front of her cell door. When the door opened, the Dark Lord stood before her, flanked by two black-armored troopers, their blasters drawn. Vader stepped down into the cell and the door closed.

     “We have your friends, my dear, the boy, the Corellian, and the Wookie.”

     “I expected as much from you, Darth. But why them?”

     “They attacked Death Star, and your lover, Han Solo, nearly destroyed my fighter. Luckily, I escaped.”

     “Han is not my lover.”

     “Then what? I know a great deal about your escapades, Raena. My informants are many.”

     “Yes, I know.”

     “Then confide in me,” he said, his deep voice penetrating through the hissing of his breath mask and taking a seat beside her.

     “Darth,” she began, “if you think what happened between us nearly twenty years ago is going to influence me to tell you anything, you’re sadly mistaken.”

     “Am I? The Force drew us together then, even as it does now.” He took her hand. “If I hadn’t been forced to leave, I would have claimed you for my own. How could I have known my brother would succeed where I’d not dared to venture?”

     “Perhaps your brother was more bold.”

     “My brother was a fool!”

     Raena drew her hand away at his implication. “So, he’s dead.”

     Vader rose and hooked his thumbs into his belt. “Yes, he is dead; but your marriage contract isn’t invalid...as of yet.”

     “How can that be?”

     “Realizing my mistake, I visited your father shortly after your marriage, and we drew up an additional contract: one which gave you to me upon my brother’s death.”

     “I never signed such a contract.”

     “That wasn’t necessary. Your father signed it, just before he died. It was his last wish for you to endorse it. By the laws of the Sith, you must comply.”

     Now it was Raena’s turn to rise. “I refuse.”

     “You would be wise to reconsider, as I intend to leave a son behind when I die, and you will bear him—one way or another. You are my wife, Raena, with or without your signature, and if I must force you to behave as such, I will.”

     “Why me, Darth?” she hissed before he could react to the opening door. “Why me? Why must you have me as your wife?”

     He turned, the light glaring off his shiny black helmet and the smoked eye glass. “Because, my dear, The Force is strong with you, perhaps as strong as it is with me. Independent, you are a threat to me and my success, but as my wife our strength can be combined to gain my superiority in the Empire. Therefore, if you continue to refuse me, I shall have no choice but to terminate you.”

    His words causing her to sit in contemplation, when he abruptly turned his cape flew into her face as he swiftly left the detention cell. Once more standing, she faced the closed door. “We shall see with whom the Force is strongest, Lord Vader.”

     One hand raised and dark eyes staring intently at the black metal, the door began to rise and she stepped forward. When two guards blocked her way, she moved a single finger of her hand and the blasters leapt from the men’s hands. While they stood by helpless, unable to reach their weapons, hanging in mid-air, high above their heads, Raena stood in the center of the corridor watching the black-caped figure as it strode farther away.

     “Lord Vader!” she shouted.

     He turned quickly, his cape swirling behind him as he took a pose, legs apart and thumbs once more linked into his belt. “Yes, my lady?”

     “I will sign the contract.”

     “Then join me. It is unbefitting a Lady of the Sith to be such revealing attire.”

     Raena walked toward the Dark Lord, where he stretched out a hand in which she placed hers. “Will you release my friends, as a favor to me?”

     “It is a matter of personal pride, which causes me to imprison them. I cannot release them simply to please you. They must pay retribution for the attempt on my life before they are freed.”

 

     The three prisoners had been put into three separate cells, but Han could hear the giant Wookie’s howling, even through the thick metal walls. “That damn kid’s fault. Always needs to be a hero,” he muttered.

     Suddenly, Solo’s cell door raised to admit the Dark Lord. For a moment, the two men stared at each other, then the taller one spoke. “So, you are Han Solo. I’ve heard much of you, and to meet you, at last, is rewarding, but would have believed Raena to have better taste.”

     “Now, you listen to me, Vader,” Han began, “I may not be much, compared to you Siths, but was enough of a man to keep her happy for several years, which is more than you can say!”

     The Dark Lord’s domed eye covers glared at Solo. “If I had been Raena’s husband all these years, she never would have needed nor wanted you.”

     “You mean, you ain’t her husband?”

     “No, not yet. But I will be tonight, and she will cease to so much as think of you.” With a billowing of his cape, Vader was suddenly gone and the cell door lowered and locked behind him.

 

     Entering his quarters, the Lord of the Sith found the Lady Raena awaiting him, her pirate’s garb changed for a Sith attire. The neckline of the long-sleeved black gown dipped from shoulder to shoulder, exposing the rounded whiteness of her ample breasts. The skirt was slit on each side to the waist, revealing her shapely legs covered by black stockings and high-heeled, black leather boots. A hooded cloak rested on the back of a nearby chair. Vader came toward her, removing his cape and helmet/breath mask, which he slowly placed beside her. His arm about her waist, he drew her against him.

     “Now, it is as it should be.”

     Raena’s hand pressed against his massive chest in a feeble attempt to push him away.

     “Why so cold, my lady? Have you forgotten the way things were before?” His mouth covered hers, enveloping her in an overpowering shadow of blackness. But she didn’t return his kiss. In reaction, he released her and stood, towering over her form like a cloud of death and darkness. “Perhaps you need more time to remember, because you will be my wife, tonight, in all ways. Either you submit or I will force you to submit.” His cape picked up, he replaced the helmet over his head and left her again.

     An hour later, he came once more, and Raena fell to her knees before him, taking his gloved hand and kissing the back of it. “My lord, I beg forgiveness. I have been prideful and willful. I commit myself to you in all ways.”

     Vader pulled her to her feet. “You are not subservient to me, Raena; you are my equal. Behave as such. Are you truly prepared to become my wife?”

     Her eyes searched the fathomless depths of the black breath mask. “Yes, Anakin,” she said, using the name she had known him by those many years past. “It was wrong of me to continue the marriage with Zaroth. You were my only escape.”

     “Henceforth, you will never use the name, Anakin, to me again. Is that clear?”

     “Yes..., Darth,” she said, lowering her head in submission.

     “The contract never should have been made. Zaroth was a man with the mind of a child, soon after the signing of it. He could never have been the husband you needed.” Again he removed his helmet and took her in his arms, caressing her hair as he looked into her eyes, causing the pupils to dilate by the darkness he used to overcome her resolve. “Your hair smells as it did that first day in the garden. Your skin is still as soft, your kiss as sweet.”

     “Remember the first time I saw you at my father’s?” she asked, unresisting. “You were so utterly charming, Darth. I remember the way your eyes always seemed to read what was on my mind. I must have been very impressionable.”

     “And now?” he asked.

     “Now, I am not so easily impressed, but I can still remember.” When Vader’s lips touched hers, this time, they were met with warmth and eagerness, and Raena felt the Force flow between them, as it had so many years before. But a part of her mind still stood aside and calculated each action and reaction.

     The kiss ended, she said, “I have a proposition for you, my lord, if you will duel me with light sabers for possession of the prisoners.”

     “Duel, with you, Raena?”

     “Yes. If I win, the prisoners go free; if you win, you may dispose of them as you see fit.”

     “Agreed, but it would be more entertaining for the prisoners, your friends, to observe. Don’t you think?”

     Raena quickly revised her plan. “I agree. Set the time.”

     “Tomorrow, I think. The latter part of the day would be best.” He unfastened his cape, letting it drop to the floor, then removed his gloves. “But now, I have other plans—things to remember by reliving them.”

 

Chapter Four

     Early the next day, a black-cloaked figure appeared at the door of detention cell RR-34, the face obscured by the darkness of the cloak’s hood. “I wish to speak to the prisoners,” said a woman’s calm, sultry voice.

     “I’m sorry, ma’am, but no one is to see the prisoners but Lord Vader.”

     “I am the Lady Vader; it will be all right.” There was an undetectable movement of her hand from underneath the cloak in the guard’s direction.

     “It will be all right,” the one guard said to the other.

     The door raised and the Dark Lady descended into the cell, she faced the Corellian who sat with one leg resting on the sleeping ledge on the opposite wall. When the door had closed, she laid back her hood to reveal the black breath mask she wore.

     Solo stared, defiantly, without moving. “Lady Vader, I presume.”

     “Han, I don’t expect you to understand.”

     “Take that thing off. I want to see your face when I talk to you...bitch!”

     Using both hands, Raena slowly removed the offense devise.

     “Well, you’ve really done it now, haven’t you?” said Han. “Up to your petty neck with the Empire and wife only to the guy next to the Emperor in power, too. Quite a jump from a lowly Corellian space pirate, huh?”

     “Han, it isn’t what it seems.”

     Solo snarled in contempt. “Oh, it ain’t, huh? Your lord and master was here earlier, sweetheart; told me all about it, how you couldn’t wait to get rid of me. So, tell me, my love, how was the consummation last night?”

     “Oh, Han, stop it. Can’t you see he was baiting you, trying to turn you against me?”

     Solo rose from the bench and came towards her. “Well, he did a pretty good job, ‘cause I don’t ever want to see you again. ‘Fraid I might do something I’d regret.”

     Anger mounting, Raena was now the aggressor. “All right, flyboy, if you want the truth, I’ll give it to you. Sure, I lied to you when I told you about my husband, because I didn’t think you’d believe I’d ever enter into a contract with a man who had the mind of a five-year-old, but that’s what happened. His family was powerful, and I was young enough to see a way to use that power and still get what I wanted. But I was in love with Darth Vader when I married, even though he was my husband’s brother. And, if you care to know, it was Darth who was my lover, until he went to the Dark Side and joined the Empire and killed my father. I left then, bought my ship, and started trying to forget, tried to grow strong enough to revenge my father’s murder...until I met you.”

     “Yeah, me,” Han said, pointing to himself. “So, how do I fit into all this?”

     “You want to know why I formed that contract with you?”

     “Well, yeah, as a matter of fact, I do.”

     “You were pretty famous for your age, Han, and I knew before long you’d own your own ship and become even more famous. I wanted to be part of that, if I couldn’t make it on my own but never expected our deal to be anything other than business.”

     Han no longer appeared angry but subdued. “Neither did I,” he said more softly, “but you kind of grow on a guy. Hell, I didn’t mind splitting half the profits between us, that was just a minor part of the deal. I just wanted...I mean,” he said, sitting down, “I got to where the profits weren’t that important. Me, the mercenary’s mercenary.”

     “All right, so that much is out.”

     “Why’d you marry Vader?”

     Raena sat beside Han. “He’s got a contract on me, valid without my signature. If I didn’t agree, he’d have me killed. But listen, Han, I’ve got a plan for your escape as well as that of Luke and Chewbacca.”

     When she had finished revealing it, Han said, “Damnit, though, I don’t like you being Vader’s wife.”

     She fiddled a bit with Han’s vest before saying, “Why? Are you jealous?”

     “Yeah. Every time I think of him touching you, I want to vomit.”

     “He’s really not so bad.” “That’s your opinion.”

     She rose and kissed him lightly on his mouth. “I have to go see Chewbacca and Luke, now, and will see you all again this afternoon.”

    

     In a minute, she had left Han’s cell and entered Chewbacca’s. The Wookie emoted a loud growl when he saw Raena enter, hooded and masked, but as the door slid shut behind her and she removed the breath mask, he grew suspicious and emitted a low-pitched grumble, deep in his throat.

     “Chewbacca, you have to trust me. You’ve always trusted before. Please!”

     He gave a short growl of apprehension in answer before Raena’s hand went under her cloak and brought out a small blaster. “I know it’s small, but it’s better than nothing. This afternoon, you’ll be released to watch a duel.”

     A hairy hand reaching out to take the weapon, he grunted a question, which she quickly answered.

     “I know, but it’s the only chance we have.”

 

     Next, she saw Luke. When she removed the ugly mask this time, her observer seemed confused. “Han said,” he began, “but I didn’t believe it. You really are Vader’s wife.”

     “Not really, not yet, at least, but he doesn’t know that.” She brought his light saber from beneath her cloak and handed it to him. “You’ll know when to use it. Trust me, Luke, I want Vader’s death as much as you and Han. He was responsible for my father’s death, the same as he was for yours. Watch carefully this afternoon, because what you’ll see may give you the clue to Darth’s weakness...the flaw that will be his downfall. If I can’t defeat him, it will be up to you, maybe not right away, maybe years from now, but he has to be stopped.”

     Luke stared at the long metal cylinder in his hand, then at the black-caped woman. “You think you’ll be able to defeat him?” He squinted. “You think you’re that good? I’ve seen him, fighting Ben Kenobi, Obi-Wan, and Ben was really good.”

     “Darth is very devious, Luke, so even if I do defat him, he may not release you. He believes The Force and its powers, that’s why it works for him, but he is also very superstitious. I believe in The Force, too, but without his superstitions. I should have the advantage.”

 

     Darth met Raena outside the detention area. “You will go to the physician for the test. Now.”

     “Yes, Darth,” she said in humble compliance, “I’ll go.”

     “And remember,” he admonished with pointed finger, “a Sith never breathes the air polluted by underlings. Maintain your breath mask as befits a woman of the Sith.”

     “I will, my lord.” “Our duel is scheduled for fifteen-thirty at the central compound.”

     “I shall be there. May the Force be with, my lord.”

     “The Force is always with you, my lady.”

     And then they went their separate ways, Vader progressing to the detention area, for he was not so easily fooled. “Search the prisoners,” he ordered the guards.

     “But, Lord Vader, they were searched thoroughly previous to their detention.”

     “Search them again!” he bellowed.

     “But no has seen the prisoners except yourself, Lord Vader.”

     “I said, search them!” he roared and strode away, each step shaking the corridor floors.

 

Chapter Five

The time for the duel came and Raena stood facing Vader, her blue laser saber drawn and readied for combat. Vader approached her black-clad form, glancing once at the three shackled prisoners who stood as witnesses, surrounded by six white-armored guards. His own red-beamed light saber humming with energy as it moved through the air, both participants discarded their capes and stood a meter apart. At the side near the center of the distance, stood the black-garbed commander of the post.

     “Lord Vader,” he said, are you sure this is advisable. The Emperor—”

     “The Emperor is five parsecs away, Commander. I govern this sector of the galaxy. I am answerable only to myself.”

     “Very well, sir. The duel will commence on my signal and continue until one of you declares yield or defeat. Begin!”

     Almost immediately, the commander stepped further away, as Raena advanced first, throwing a blow toward Vader’s head, which he parried, bringing his saber lower between them, then striking out and down to her legs. Stepping instinctively to the side from the travelling laser beam, she brought her own saber to perform a series of side parries on Vader’s left.

     “You learned well, my lady. Your instructor should be commended.”

     “Unfortunately, my instructor is unable to be here, as you know..., my lord, but there is more you’ve yet to see.” And, with those words, she thrust her saber up and around, creating a pressing hilt-lock with Vader’s saber. Clenching her teeth behind the mask she wore, inches away from his, she put all her body weight in the push and finally felt Vader yielding. Then, instantly jumping back, she shifted position, coming to his left side a split second before he could recover his balance and missed his muscular thigh by centimeters. Her saber slashing through the air in mockery, Vader turned on her, advancing with blow after blow, backing her closer to the compound’s rigid metal wall. Seeing the trap, Raena executed a sudden thrust and whirled out to the left again. But Vader wasn’t so easily tricked again.

     Now she stood two meters away from his slowly approaching form, legs spread, shifting her saber from one hand to the other in a taunting manner, while a voice inside her whispered, _“See, he is still clumsy, his movement do not flow as they should. You must take advantage of his slowness.”_

     Vader neared, his saber held downward, then without warning attacked with a low slice that missed and only cut air. This encounter pausing the action, she noticed him glancing in the direction of the prisoners and particularly Han, whose concern was evident to anyone.

     “Your Corellian lover seems worried, my lady.”

     Raena parried this remark with a side slash. “I keep telling you, Darth, he’s not my lover.”

     “You’ve disappointed me, Raena. The Force is strong with you...even in lying.”

     Now she slipped back and to the side, meeting his next thrust with a low parry. “When will you yield, my lord? I am clearly your better.”

     “I will never yield, Raena. I fight only to the death.”

     "Would you kill the woman who bears your son?”

     “The test?”

     “Positive, my lord.”

     They locked sabers once more, and Vader shouted to the Commander, “Get the physician.”

     When a guard returned shortly thereafter with the gray-haired man, moments later, Vader and Raena’s beams were still locked, saber hilt against saber hilt, as he came to their side.

     “My lady tells me she carries my child, Physician. Does she lie?”

     “No, Lord Vader. It is true. On my oath.”

     Raena laughed. “Did you expect me to deceive you..., my lord?”

     In reply, Vader hissed back, “The duel is not over, yet, my wife.”

     The lock broken and each backing away, Vader advanced a single step, before Raena began her own advance, while the doctor and his accompanying guard ran for the safety of the outer area, Raena continuing to slash with her saber, as quickly as Vader could counter her blows.

     The sabers locked, once more, Raena whispered, “I have no such qualms as yours, regarding your life, Darth. It would please me greatly to see you dead.”

     “And your son born fatherless?”

     “Better fatherless than to know such a father as you.”

    They broke off, each springing backward, and in another second, Raena had removed the breath mask, tossing it aside to the spectators where Luke caught it. But the guards were two engrossed in the duel to notice.

     A toss of her long hair off her neck, Raena smiled at Vader, her dark eyes blazing while Vader roared, “You cannot reveal your face! I forbid it.”

     “I fight equally well, with or without a mask. Can you do the same, or do you need such crutches to control the Force to your advantage?”

     Vader hesitated, and in that moment, Raena looked to Luke and could see he knew he had the key to the Dark Lord’s defeat. Then she saw him look inside the breath mask in his shackled hands, nudge Han, and motion to the mask’s interior.

     Still Vader stood apart from Raena, his saber alternately lifting and falling in indecision. “I will fight you but not this way. You have humiliated me by revealing your face to commoners. I declare the match mine, by default.”

     “No, Lord Vader,” she said, “the match and the prize are mine.” Again, she advanced, her saber readied, both hands on the cylindrical hilt. “If you refuse to continue, I have won.”

     A glance to the prisoners showed Raena’s mask currently in Chewbacca’s hands and void of its contents.

     “Commander,” Vader shouted, “your opinion?”

     The man stepped hesitantly forward. “Lady Vader is correct. According to the rules of light saber dueling, as I understand them, the match is ended when either one yields. Refusal to continue constitutes a yield.”

     “Must I meet her terms to continue?” asked the Dark Lord.

     The commander swallowed hard. “Yes, Lord Vader.”

     “Then I yield.” So saying, the tall Sith deactivated his light saber and began to leave.

     “Release the prisoners,” ordered Raena, as soon as he departed. While Han, Chewbacca and Luke came to her side, she called after the Dark Lord, “I’m going with them, Darth.”

     The man turned. “I will not allow it You shall remain here,” he added, fist stabbing downward on dead air.

     “You can’t stop me, Darth. You just proved that.”

     “I forbid it!” Vader roared and grabbed a blaster from the nearest guard, as she turned and followed the others across the room.

     With the weapon fired at Raena’s retreating form, the blast broke the air and the four began to run, racing down the adjoining corridor which led to the outer entrance. Han turned and fired the small stunner in his hand at the advancing guards, and the tall, dark form rapidly coming up behind them. Luke, too, stopped and fired, dispatching three of the Storm Troopers but the black menace still came.

     With Han’s strong hand, pushing Raena ahead, she heard, “Go on, run!”

     Next, she felt Chewbacca grab her arm, hurrying her down the corridor, Han and Luke covering their retreat. Then, rounding a corner of the main passageway, they came to an intersection, the side corridor of which contained a lone dark figure of threatening proportions. An armor-covered arm raised, blaster focused on the black-clothed woman, and fired.

     The Dark Lord saw Raena fall to the floor, while the giant Wookie stopped, seeming momentarily confused, as Han and Luke raced past before realizing she was down. Now he approached more rapidly approaching, and the Wookie joined Han and Luke after trying to get Raena to her feet in futility. But Vader could see they knew it was too late for Raena, because now he stood above her sprawled form, his cruel blaster aimed directly at her head. This was when the two retreating humans inched toward him. Consciousness regained, Raena looked up at Vader, her eyes threatening.

     “Kill me, Darth. You’ve broken my legs, though I can heal them quickly enough. But, if you don’t kill me, I guarantee I’ll my best to kill you.”

    Vader’s hand moved the lethal weapon a centimeter, then fired, immediately looking up at the two men ten meters down the corridor. “Go, Corellian, go before I decide to terminate you, as well.”

     Han came forward, slowly, anger on his face. “You dirty, woman-butchering, son of a...,” and then fired a bolt at the Dark Lord, one which was absorbed by the Sith’s armored chest.

     “You cannot harm me, Solo, so go, now, you fool, while you have a chance.” Seeing the younger man pull the Corellian away, Vader added with pointed finger, “As for you, Skywalker, we shall meet again, when you are a fit opponent for me.” As the two men left, the Lord of the Sith fell to one knee and bent to pick up the limp body of his lady, cradling her gently as he carried her down the darkened corridor, so gently her long hair didn’t even swing with his huge steps.

     _If only she’d let him win_ , he thought, but with her demise, only one true Jedi remained—the boy, Luke Skywalker.

 

     No resistance met their path to Docking Bay 180. No resistance to their boarding. It was only minutes before Chewbacca had flipped the switches for lift-off and they were above Corellis, but Han hadn’t piloted the take. Instead, young Skywalker sat in the pilot’s chair and helped monitor the gauges and comp readouts.

     Once free of Corellis’ gravity, Threepio came into the cockpit. “Where’s mistress Raena, Master Luke?”

    Chewie turned his head to Luke then moved it away, as his blue eyes filled with tears.

     “She’s...dead, Threepio,” Luke choked out. “We couldn’t help her, after all. I was wrong.”

     The golden ‘droid was silent, an unusual response for the talkative automaton, who seemed to become more and more human every day.

     “I’d better go check on Han,” Luke announced, beginning to rise, but the giant Wookie’s hairy hand held him down. Luke didn’t have to understand Wookie-gab to interpret Chewie’s mournful howl. “Suppose you’re right. He probably does want to be alone.” Luke sniffed and then sighed, wiping his eyes. “You know, I never did really find out what kind of contract she and Han had.”

     The Wookie grunted softly and Threepio reported, “He says, Raena and Master Han were married.”

    “But I thought she was already married.”

     Another series of soft grunts followed, while the Wookie rubbed a hairy hand across his eyes.

     Threepio turned to the human. “It seems on Corellis the Sith women, because of their superiority, are allowed to have two husbands, but only one Sith husband and one Corellian husband.”

     “That’s the reason for all the ‘business partner’ cover up?”

     “It seems,” provided Threepio, “that Corellian law won’t allow profit from sales to be divided between a man and woman, unless they are married to one another. That is basically the type of marriage they had.”

     Chewie made a few more commentary grunts, and Threepio added, “But the contract was valid only if they cohabited every six months.”

    Luke frowned in concentration. “But he hadn’t even seen her for a year-and-a-half, so the marriage was legally dissolved.”

     “Right on the button, kid,” came a familiar voice to the rear. Han pushed his way past the retreating ‘droid and motioned Luke out of the chair, then started flipping switches overhead. “I ain’t...wasn’t her husband anymore, just that bad-breathed, bad guy. I don’t even have the right to claim her body.”

    Luke tried to watch Han’s face for some sign of grief, but he kept it stern, blinking, maybe, a bit more often than usual.

     “Chewie,” Han said, “lock in course for Yavin and compute entry vector then plug that into the navi-computer.” His hand flew busily over the console.

    “Han,” asked Luke, “you all right?”

     “Sure, kid, never better.”

     Luke looked quickly at the Wookie, who nodded slightly. “Han, I’ve got something you might want. It slid across the floor, toward me when Raena...when she fell.”

     “Yeah, kid,” answered Han, still keeping his eyes focused ahead, “what is it?”

     Luke removed the cylinder from his jacket pocket and held it in front of Han. “Her light saber.” The Corellian stared at the deactivated weapon then rubbed his nose, shaking his head.

     “Naw, kid, she’d want you to have it. Yours is gone, right? What’s a Jedi without a light saber?”

     The weapon back in his pocket, Luke sat in the navigator’s chair behind Han.

     “But there’s something I want you to do with that saber, kid,” Han continued. “When you’re big enough and old enough and you meet up with that...monster, I want you to use her saber to kill him. Make sure he never ruins another person’s life like he did hers.”

    “Han...”

     “Did you hear me, Luke?” the older man said, using the younger one’s given name for once. “Yeah, I heard.”

     “Well?”

     “I’ll do it, Han. I promise.”

     “Good, then get strapped in.” That said, Han glanced at the navi-computer. “We’re making the jump to hyperdrive in two minutes. I’ve got something to check out on that planet the rebel base is on?”

     “What, Han?” “Just something Raena told me about a long time ago.”

     “Uh, Han,” said Luke, “I’ve always wondered, did Raena have a last name?”

     “Yeah, but she never used it, as long as I knew her. Can’t even recall it being on the contract. Do you remember, Chewie?”

     The Wookie growled in short bursts.

     “You’re kidding?” remarked the Corellian. “Kenobi? Really?”

     “She couldn’t have been Ben Kenobi’s daughter,” Luke said.

     “No,” Han added, “Chewie says she was his niece, but he was her father’s brother.” Almost at once the Corellian’s mood changed. “Now, damnit, strap in.”

 

Part Two

Chapter Six

     The cave was like most of Yavin Four--jungle-covered, damp, deprived of all but minimal sunlight. It had been quite easy for Han to find the mystic. All the rebels knew of the Old One, although very few had actually seen him. Nevertheless, the old man was greatly respected by all.

     “What do you seek, my son,” he asked. Solo, facing a stranger for the first time of his own volition without the giant Wookie, was just a bit nervous.

     Chewie had taken mysteriously ill, deserting him, and the old man reminded Solo too much of old Obi-Wan—gray hair and beard, all neatly trimmed, clean but rough-cut layers of robes, and the old man’s icy grey eyes penetrated the Corellian’s very essence. “A woman told me to find you, if I ever thought her dead, that you could tell me the truth.”

     The elderly man closed his eyes momentarily then slowly made his way to the back of the cave, Han following. “You have something of hers I can examine,” the Old One’s voice echoed as they neared a small glow panel. He motioned to a rough-hewn wooden chair, and Han sat. “It would also be easier if you could tell me her name.”

     “All I have is her light saber.” Solo held it out like a precious object and the old man took her from his fingers.

     “Her name?”

     “Raena Kenobi.”

     “Raena Kenobi? Ra-Na? And you believe her dead?”

     “Yes.”

     “We shall soon see.” The mystic held the saber hilt in the palms of his hands before him and touched it with his wrinkled brow. While he held it there, a feeble effervescence began to surround the cylinder, and the Old One returned the object to Solo. “She lives,” the mystic replied reverently, “but only by the thinnest thread of life. The Force still lives within her, but it grows weak. How much longer she will live is impossible to determine. But,” he continued with a meek smile, “I can tell you this—if the glow increases, she improves, and it will not diminish again.”

     “But where can I find her?”

     “The saber will be drawn to her, even as a magnet is drawn to metal, forever striving to once more be a part of Ra-Na. I suggest you begin where you left her...or nearby.”

 

     _The Falcon_ landed without fanfare at Docking Bay 23 on the planet of Corellis, still minus its Wookie First Mate. There had been no humor during the journey and none now. Both humans had only one thing on their minds—a single purpose—to find Raena and take her to Yavin. After that, the questions could be answered. Bay 23 was perhaps the most isolated in the whole of Yaru and the farthest from the military complex. Solo stood on _Falcon’s_ ramp, the saber hilt laying on his bowed palm. Immediately, it pointed toward the complex kilometers away. Han also noticed the cylinder seemed a bit brighter but dismissed it as hopeful thinking. The ‘droids left behind to cover the ship, Han and Luke made their way down the overgrown street into the heart of the city and its Imperial Fortress. As a small detachment of Storm Troopers headed their way, the twosome drew back into the shadows.

     “You realize,” whispered Luke, “there’s only one way we’re going to get in there, don’t you?"

     “Yeah, and I sure that damn armor, but like you say...”

     Jumping out of the shadows, the two men attacked the three-man unit and quickly disguised themselves in the white armor and breath masks.

 

     Within the complex, in a barren room, a bandage-faced woman had regain full consciousness and was rapidly making her anger known. “Where’s that charlatan who call himself a physician? Who did this to me? I want Lord Vader here, now!” Her fingers tore at the bandages again, but her efforts were as before, futile, so she waited, hateful insanity glazing her dark eyes.

     When the physician entered, Vader himself followed behind him, and beyond him a white-armored guard and yet another, who with blaster, moved to a corner of the room. The doctor came to her bedside and carefully cut away the gauze wrapping then looked at the Dark Lord, who watched quietly while the woman immediately felt her face, finding, all too soon, the huge, scarred gash marking her left cheek.

     “The blast hit a nerve, forcing you to unconsciousness,” the Sith provided. Now he held out his hand to the guard beside him and was given the black breath mask. With it in his possession, Vader tossed it into the woman’s lap. “Perhaps, now, my lady wife, you will deem it proper to wear your mask.”

     “You should have killed me instead, Darth,” she hissed.

     “And kill my unborn son, as well? Don’t be a fool, Raena. You’ll live only so long as you’re needed to give him life. Then I promise you, my dear, you will die.” The Dark Lord left with his customary aplomb, leaving the single guard and the physician.

     As the door slammed, Raena hurled the breath mask against the wall. After she did so, the physician gently took her shoulders, whispering, “You must not anger him, Lady Raena.” The graying man glanced quickly at the single guard, then turned to the woman again. “We’ll have to bribe the guard, of course.”

    “Bribe him?” she asked in the same sotto voice. “Why?”

     “Because there’s something you must know, my lady. The child you carry is not Lord Vader’s.”

     “Not Darth’s!” “Lord Vader is sterile, my lady. As you know, I’ve been physician to the Vaders and Kenobis for many years. Darth had a serious malady when he was young. Naturally, I never told him of the long-lasting results of that illness, especially after what happened to him as a young man, causing him to turn to the Darker side of The Force.”

     The guard had bounded to their side. “That means the baby’s mine, then.”

    Raena glared at the man. “What are you saying?”

     Helmet and breath mask quickly removed, he revealed himself.

     “Han!”

     “Listen, baby,” the Corellian asked, looking at the healer, “can he be trusted?”

     “Yes.”

    “Come on, then,” he said, replacing the helmet, “we’re getting out of here.” He picked up her breath mask from the floor and tossed it to her. “Hurry and put this on.”

    “Where’s Luke and Chewbacca?” she asked, finding her cloak and pulling it about her shoulders, breath mask firmly in place.

     “Luke’s just outside. Chewie’s back at the base. Damn ape got sick on me.”

     As the physician watched the preparations anxiously, he considered what to do. He did want to be rid of Vader, but the other man’s interruption hadn’t allowed the opportunity to tell Lady Raena everything about her pregnancy. The door activated by Han, he motioned to the shorter Storm Trooper to flank the civilian couple. With only one group of soldiers encountered, to whom they explained the doctor needed to conduct further tests, which were only available at the medical center, they passed on without question.

     Moments after Raena’s room had been vacated, Vader returned to see if his wife was properly contrite. They were unfortunate guards who met his contempt as he summoned the troops, promising them all death, should they not find Lady Vader and return her alive and unharmed.

 

     The _Millennium Falcon_ in sight and next engulfing their forms, Solo followed the speeding threesome up the closing ramp. Tearing the helmet off his head, Han found himself at the rear of a wall of flesh. “What the Hell...? We gotta get moving; what’s this all about?”

    Raena, trembling in front of him, backed away, turning to stare with contempt into Solo’s bemused eyes. “Is this your idea of a joke, Han, bringing him here to face me?”

     “I don’t have the slightest idea what—” Then he looked to where Raena had gestured with a toss of her head. Behind the two droids stood a hulk of white-armored, breath-masked terror. Seeing Luke glance from one human to the other, in confusion, Han tried reasoning with the woman. “I’ve never seen him before. What are you talking about?”

     “That’s Zaroth, Han, Zaroth Vader—my husband.”

     “I beg your forgiveness for the surprise,” the newcomer said. “Your droids were sure you’d accept my passage. I had no intention of upsetting anyone.”

     “Is she your wife?” asked Han.

     “I’m afraid so, Captain Solo. I have heard she believes me dead, and I know my brother, who instigated the entire matter, believes likewise. Fortunately, I am very much alive.”

     “You’re not like I thought you’d be,” Han commented.

     “The retarded village idiot? No, Captain, that was all an act, one I perpetrated myself for my survival. But to business, will you take me to the Yavin moon. The fourth moon?”

     "And just what business could you have on Yavin Four?” asked Raena.

     “I defect to the rebels, dear wife, a thing which will, of necessity, greatly irritate my father, the Emperor, I fear.”

     “Raena, now cool down,” said Han. “We’ve got to get out of here and fast. We can argue about destination later. “Come on, Luke, I’ll need your help. Raena, you and the others strap in.

     Solo was suddenly gone, leaving the woman to face her husband with only the ‘droids and the physician for sympathy, and already the droids were headed for the main hold. Raena gave one last glance of hatred at her husband and followed. The entire ship shook with the effort of lift off before she was joined by the tall man and humble physician. They’d obviously been talking. Raena had taken the chair by the readout console, to avoid contact with Zaroth. She didn’t care that the ‘droids stared at her in confusion or that beneath the white metal breath mask, Zaroth seemed terribly pleased with himself, as he strapped into his own place beside the good doctor.

     When the _Falcon_ ceased to struggle against the Corellian gravity and began its journey through the void above, the physician unstrapped and went to Raena, who had pulled her black cloak about her to further isolate herself. “My lady, it’s imperative I talk to you further.”

     “Of what?”

     “Your pregnancy,” he whispered.

     “What of it?”

     “It is in the third week, not the first.”

     “How can that be?”

     “You will find he speaks the truth,” Zaroth interjected. “You were with me three weeks ago, as you doubtless recall.”

     “True, but I never slept with you then and never have.”

     “You were tired, Raena. You retired early, and while it is true I never touched you, the physician and I had planned another way for you to conceive my son.”

     “No! I refuse to believe you.” Raena’s shout of denial, brought Han and Luke into the hold.

     “What’s going on?” asked Han.

     Raena was out of her seat and beside the tall Corellian in a flash, practically hysterical. “He says it’s his child, and the physician backs him up. Oh, Han, it can’t be true, it can’t.”

     Solo’s arm went protectively about the woman’s shoulders.

     Zaroth rose, carefully disentangling his long white cape. “It is true, Captain Solo. I needed a son to succeed me—to be one step ahead of my brother, so to speak. However, as you are undoubtedly aware, my wife and I do not share a conjugal relationship. So, I arranged for the conception to be done artificially, while she slept.”

     Raena’s head shook wildly, still in disbelief, and she broke from Han’s embrace, then ran down the short corridor. Han glanced once at Prince Zaroth, then went after the woman. But she was nowhere to be seen. He checked her former quarters and found her lying across the narrow bed, her mask torn off, eyes red and watery.

     “He’s lying, Han, he has to be. I don’t want his child.”

     Solo sat beside her, smoothing the dark ruffled hair into place. “He could be telling the truth, Raena, and if he is, I want you to accept it.”

     She turned her face from him and threw an arm across her eyes. “Go away, Han, and just leave me alone.”

     The Corellian rose slowly, reluctantly, and took a last long look at the woman then left.

 

     Once again in the hold, he said to the physician, “You’d better see if there’s something you can give her, to calm her down.” When the man had left, Solo turned to Zaroth. “You’ll give her an annulment after the baby’s born, won’t you?”

    “Of course. It has always been my intent.”

     Then the physician suddenly burst into the room. “She’s gone. I can’t find her anywhere.”

     Han followed the man but also found his words too true.

     “Han,” Luke shouted from the hold, “one of the pods has been jettisoned.”

     All the men finally realized the truth. Raena had chosen to escape her fears, her accusers, and to take her only recourse. There was no way, she knew, the _Falcon_ could retrieve the pod.

 

Chapter Seven

     A year passed and found Han seated at a table across from Luke within Mos Eisley’s cantina. Luke was receiving a short lecture. “I mean it, kid, you’re never going to get anywhere with that princess of yours unless you learn how to handle yourself with women.”

     “What about that one there, Han?” Luke asked, gesturing toward a curvaceous blond wearing a tight, red silk halter and black shorts beside Chewbacca at the bar. “Forget it,” Han replied, sizing up the painted face’s detailed scrollwork, the tan-colored skin, and waist length, white-blond hair.

     “Why? She’s by far the best thing I’ve seen in here.”

     “Remember what Kenobi told you, kid—appearances can be deceiving? That’s a Tark.”

     “So, she’s a woman, isn’t she.?”

     “Only from the waist up.”

     “Chewie seems to like her.”

     Han turned again and watched the Tark’s conversation with the Wookie. She had her silver-nailed fingers in his chest hair and with the other hand admired his bandolier. Chewie was grinning from fur-covered ear to fur-covered ear.” “Well, no accounting for taste. Damn oaf knows better, too. Never saw a Wookie behave that way around a Tark.”

     Luke continued to observe the spectacle, completely enthralled, even if Han wasn’t. “Damn, now she’s scratching him under the chin.”

     “Stupid idiot!” Han said under his breath. “What’s holding up those drinks?”

     As if on cue, the Wookie’s audible chortling laugh preceded his arrival with the three glasses of dubious refreshment. Han frowned. “What’s so damn funny?” The drinks placed on the table before the two humans and keeping one for himself, Chewie plopped himself into the booth and took a last furtive glance at the Tark, who now leaned against the bar watching the group of men. Then the Wookie chuckled again. Luke, now rather well-versed in Wookie-gab, punched the hairy creature on the arm.

     “Come on, Chewie, what’d she say to you?”

     In turn, the Wookie gave Luke his attention and then Han, before again bursting out in the chortling half-howling laughter.

     It was a disgusted Solo who suddenly felt long fingers sliding down his chest from the shoulder and a moist mouth appear at his ear, huskily saying, “I wonder if I could talk to you alone, Captain Solo?”

     Trying not to cringe, the Corellian slowly turned in his seat, suspecting the worst and found it; the Tark’s green eyes met his and her mouth parted in a half-smile, exposing the elongated canines of her race.

     Chewie laughed again, perturbing Han and obviously going unnoticed by the Tark. “And what did you have on your...? What did you want to talk about?” Han managed.

     “A business deal, Captain.” Han glanced at the Wookie and then to Luke. “Meet me at the sip in ten minutes...no longer.”

     At that, he rose and the woman followed, her hand inches away from the blaster on her hip. While their eyes adjusted to the brightness outside, Han asked, trying not to notice the curves revealed by the Tark’s tight attire, “What kind of business?”

     "A partnership. Fifty percent profit split.”

     “That’s what I was afraid of.”

     “I speak only of business, Captain Solo, nothing else.” She looked up at him and continued. “I am called Azoth. You have heard of me?”

     “Yeah, I’ve heard of you.”

     “Then you know I have been very successful in my ventures for so short a time.”

     “Of course, but I’ll still want to see your accounts.”

    “Naturally. I have those records with me.”

     They were at the ship, now, and then inside, after Han cast a furtive glance to make sure there were no witnesses about. Luckily, the ‘droids were gone, getting food supplies. The Tark handed him a disc from her pouch, and he put the first into the videocom to read, whistling when he read the astronomical figures. “How’d you mange to gross all that in just three months?”

     “My crew signs on for experience only, and unlike you, I do my own dealing—no middleman to take a cut like Jabba the Hut. I also think I’m much more honest.” The Tark slid onto the desk top, draping herself over the com, seductively. “I’m also willing to pay off any debts of yours to facilitate our contract.”

     “Do you have the paper with you?”

     She reached again into her pouch and withdrew a folded sheet of papers. “All done—only thing remaining is to fill in our names and sign.”

     Solo scanned the print quickly—just as she’d said the contract was only for business partnership—nothing else. He stared into the green eyes below the scrolled paint and grinned. “Sure this is what you want?”

     She smiled back, her hand reaching up to stroke his bare cheek. “Quite sure. Do you have any reservations?”

     “Not with you.” Han took the stylus she offered and signed his name then handed it and the contract back to her, where she inscribed her own name on the papers.

     “It’s been a long time,” she said, almost audibly.

    Han came around behind her and slipped his hand about her narrow waist, forcing her to turn and face him. Her long flaxen hair brushed back, he studied her face, letting his forefinger trace a downward line along the Tark’s left cheek. “They say appearances can be deceiving,” he said.

    “So, I hear,” was the Tark’s answer.

     “You didn’t really think you could fool me, did you?”

    “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Captain Solo.”

     “Like Hell” “I assure you, your words are meaningless to me.”

    “You can change the color of your hair, the color of your skin and eyes, but you’re still the same woman.”

    Pulling herself forcibly from his grasp, the Tark said, “Captain, I realize the reputation my race has, concerning their affection for human males, but I assure you, my intentions are only to combine our ventures.”

     “I’ll just bet!” Solo’s eyes narrowed to brown slits. “You think a real Tark would make up to Chewie like you did?”

    “I bear a special fondness for Wookies. My entire crew is composed of that race. If you believe me to be other than what I claim, I shall disrobe here and now and prove you wrong.”

     Han grimaced. “That ain’t necessary. Okay, so I was wrong. I’m...sorry.”

     “Your apology is accepted. I shall see you in six months to settle accounts. What spaceport would you prefer?”

     “Mos Daron.”

     “Very well.” The Tark ran a handful of silver talons through her mane of near white hair, tore off her copy of the contract, and left.

     As Azoth ran down the ramp, eager to be out of Solo’s presence, she passed Chewbacca and the young Skywalker, then turned and called the Wookie back when Luke went back into the ship. Once more nearby, Chewie chortled and Azoth kicked him swiftly in the shin with one toe of her red booted foot. “Will you stop that?”

     The Wookie tried restraining himself but was only able to limit his mirth to an uneven smirk.

     “He’s not to know anything until we meet again; and he already suspects enough—thanks to your unearthly cackling.”

    The Wookie grunted an apology between amused snorts then emitted a low, questioning groan.

    “There is no baby, my friend. He...I miscarried in my fourth month, before I even felt movement. Thus, not even Zaroth has a claim on me. But, if I hear one word about that or anything else I’ve told you...” The Tark’s expression changed from serious to playful. “Merate told me to tell you hello and that she misses you.”

     In response, the Wookie grinned hugely. “Said she’d meet you at the cantina at sunset, and should you need to speak to me further, I’ll be at the Red Sandworm, room thirty-two-fifty-five until tomorrow night. As for Han, let him find someone who can be by his side more constantly and give him the family he’ll eventually want.” For the benefit of anyone who might have been watching, the Tark ruffled the Wookie’s chest fur and said a bit more loudly, “See you later, big boy!”

     By the time, Chewbacca reached _Falcon’s_ hold, he was again softly chuckling to himself in happiness.

The End


End file.
